


A Once Great Dynasty

by vertejaune



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aunt/Nephew Incest, F/M, Pregnancy, R Plus L Equals J
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-10-27 18:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17771789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vertejaune/pseuds/vertejaune
Summary: Daenerys remembers well the words of Mirri Maz Dur's prophecy. She would never bear a living child, but the witch had not said that her womb would never quicken.





	1. I

The first one to notice anything different is Ghost. Daenerys has always gotten along well with Jon’s direwolf. The first time she met him was shortly after arriving in White Harbor. Somehow the direwolf must have known that his master would be there and traveled south to meet him, for no sooner had they disembarked from the ship than she saw the enormous animal approaching the docks and making a beeline for Jon.

Later on, after a tense introduction to Lord Manderly and what felt like an endlessly long discussion of logistics with Tyrion, she found Jon and Ghost supervising the removal of dragonglass from the ships. She had approached cautiously. But Jon had knelt down next to the beast and introduced her to him, and after only a moment’s hesitation Ghost had nuzzled her hand and encouraged her to pet him.

Since then, Ghost has always been friendly towards her. He sleeps in the same chamber as her and Jon most nights, when he isn’t off prowling outside the keep. But lately he’d become more solicitous, following her around the courtyard and sleeping on her feet instead of Jon’s in the evenings. Daenerys suspects that he’s picking up on Jon’s protective instincts, which have ratcheted up a notch ever since they’ve started planning their strategy to engage the Night King.

Jon knows that Daenerys plans to ride Drogon into battle, knows that having her and the dragons will be an incalculable advantage. But he doesn’t like it, just like he doesn’t like the idea that Arya will be there. For all he knows that they’re capable, a battlefield is a dangerous place, and no-one will be a bigger target than the woman riding a dragon. 

The plans have been coming along reasonably well. They’ve been talking about how to protect the dragons from spears, which armies will be most compatible fighting alongside each other, how to best fashion the dragonglass into different kinds of weapons.

Finally, over a month after the first ships have landed in White Harbor, they are ready to move on to Winterfell. It has taken far longer than Daenerys would have hoped. The decision was made to send ravens summoning the Northern lords from south of White Harbor to meet them there, so that they might more easily return to their keeps and begin gathering forces before heading North themselves. 

It had been tense. The men of the North were not happy to hear that Jon had sworn for a southern Queen. So far, their trust in him had held, and they vowed to send what men and supplies they can to Winterfell as soon as possible. Still, Daenerys knows that none of them have warm feelings towards her or the idea of being one of the seven kingdoms again.

The only thing that had held the peace was the news of their betrothal. The decision had been made on the way to White Harbor. Tyrion had found them the morning after their coupling, insistent that the political ramifications of their tryst merited discussion. 

The conversation had been an uncomfortable one. Daenerys was still a bit angry that Tyrion had chosen to confront them together, rather than first bringing up the matter with her alone. He probably thought it would be more easy to manipulate them that way, and he had been right. 

Daenerys does not know what to call the things she feels for Jon Snow. She has known him only a few months, and much of that time has been spent with the two of them at odds or apart. He has impressed her, certainly, with his bravery and his swordsmanship. He is an attractive man, well formed and handsome.

But she has known many such men, and has never been drawn to them the way she is to Jon Snow. She envies him his conviction, his certainty that he knows his fight. She wants to see him look at her with that same certainty. Even with Tyrion, Daenerys cannot reveal how often she is plagued with indecision and uncertainty. She can look to her Hand for counsel, but she cannot unburden herself to him and seek solace in his reassurances. 

When Jon talked of his sister Arya, Daenerys saw him light hearted for the first time, and she was caught off guard by how suddenly and how fiercely she wanted him to be that way around her. She wanted him around her, period. It was foolish and perhaps unqueenly of her, but in his presence Daenerys felt a renewed sense of purpose, a redoubled commitment to be not just a conqueror, but a Queen who served her people. The bitternesses and resentments that had been building up in her at the slowness of politics and the costs of that patience seemed to fade, and in their place she found herself desperately wanting to be the Queen that Jon saw in her when he finally bent the knee.

And so with Jon standing beside her, Daenerys found that she could not bring herself to voice any real opposition to the idea of their marriage. She did remind him that she could not bear him children, but Jon only shook his head and said, “I’ve long since accepted that I would never have sons of my own. If this marriage is agreeable to you and Tyrion thinks that the realm would accept you marrying a bastard from the North, I’ll go into it gladly.”

Tyrion had waved away concerns about Jon’s legitimacy and any potential opposition from the Northerners, insisting that he could be legitimized by the Queen and that the lords would come to see this as an opportunity. And so it was decided that the alliance between the King in the North and the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms would be sealed with marriage.

So far, it seemed Tyrion had been correct. From their faces, it was clear that the lords were initially quite displeased to hear that another King in the North was planning to marry a woman they considered a foreigner. But after the formal announcement, when they had recused themselves, many such lords found themselves drinking with the Queen’s Hand and setting aside their objections. 

“This is not like the previous situation,” Tyrion would point out. “Robb broke an alliance, Jon is brokering one. The Others are coming, and the North cannot not stand against them alone.” 

The lords still bristled at the idea, and Tyrion would continue, “You know what happened the last time a Targaryen came to Westeros with dragons. Torrhen Stark was one of the only rulers of the Seven Kingdoms to kneel and save his men. Some called him craven for that decision, but where are the Gardeners, the Hoares, and the Durrandons now? The dragons have returned, my lords. Is it not better to see the grandsons of Ned Stark on the Iron Throne someday and your own sons safe in your keeps?”

Jon had wanted to marry in the Godswood of Winterfell, where his sisters and brother could attend. But drinking with Tyrion could only reassure the lords so far, and their minds were clearly never much removed from the fate of their last King in the North. And so Jon and Daenerys found themselves in the Godswood of White Harbor, saying their vows in a Northern ceremony. 

The ceremony had to be modified somewhat. Finding a way to do it without unnecessarily riling the Northern lords had been tricky. Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen had no intention of forsaking her sigil, and that would need to be made clear. But to have Jon wear a maiden cloak seemed inappropriate. So it had been decided that Daenerys would wear a simple cloak with her own colors on it, and Jon would wear none. When the ceremony was ended, Jon would cover them both in finer cloaks with Targaryen heraldry. 

The Northern lords would still not like it overmuch, but Tyrion had chortled gleefully as he agreed that “bastardizing the ceremony this way is best we can do”. 

When they finally set out for Winterfell, the roads are not kind. Traveling with so many troops and supplies over unfamiliar terrain, it is slow going, and the snows and winds are particularly hard on the Dothraki especially. Still, Daenerys finds herself cherishing the weeks on the road. 

It feels good to be traveling again, to enjoy a respite from what had seemed like endlessly wasted time on politics at a time when action was paramount. And she enjoys the time with her new husband. Daenerys has been married twice before, but it has never felt like this. She never knew Drogo before marrying him, and even after he took her as his wife it was a long time before she felt a connection with him. Hizdar had been an annoyance to her both before and after their wedding, and she had laid with him only twice before he was killed. Neither time had been remarkable.

It is different, with Jon. She had found their bedsport to be passionate even before their vows, but after they are wed he seems even more intense. He spends long minutes at her nipples, alternating between sucking at them and rubbing them roughly with his tongue, until Daenerys can no longer control her own body and finds herself pressing frantically upwards, only to have him hold her down so he can explore at his leisure. She will find bruises on her hips the next day and flush at the memory of how strongly he had to grip to keep her still. 

When he finally enters her, he seems determined to keep eye contact as he drives into her, and Daenerys thinks fleetingly back to her lessons with Doreah, wondering if he means anything by it. With Drogo, she had felt empowered, looking into his eyes and taking her own pleasure as she rode him. With Jon, she feels incredibly vulnerable, wondering what he is looking for, if allowing him to see her this way will let him see into the rest of her. She does not ask him about it, but merely answers with her own urgent exploration of his body, determine to map and mark every part of him for her own.

After their coupling each night, he lies close to her and tells her more stories about Winterfell and his youth there. Most nights the tales are happy or funny, but occasionally he tells her of more difficult times. She returns the favor, and most nights they drift off to silly tales of inconsequential childhood adventures.

The entire journey north feels like a strange interlude, a fragile moment of peace that will no doubt end when they reach their destination. And then they arrive in Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not the most original concept, I know. I guess probably will be two more parts. Anyways, positive or negative, I'd love to know what you think.


	2. II

Their reception at Winterfell is mixed. A girl that can only be Jon’s sister Arya is waiting for him there, given that her reaction to the sight of him is to throw herself at him with such force that he almost falls to the ground. The look on Jon’s face as he recognizes her is the happiest that Daenerys has ever seen from him, and she can feel only gladness at their reunion. 

“You got married without me!” Arya informs him excitedly, and Jon shakes his head through his grin as he tries to protest some excuses about politics and Lord Manderley. 

Once she finally releases her brother, Arya seems excited to meet Daenerys, asking many questions about her dragons and her time in Essos. Sansa and Bran come to the gate to meet them as well, and their reception is much less welcoming. Sansa offers them every courtesy, congratulating them on their marriage and thanking Daenerys for coming to their aid, but the tightness in her expression and her voice makes it clear that she is not at all happy with Jon’s decision to bend the knee. Bran, unlike his sisters, does not show any emotion when he is reunited with his brother and introduced to Daenerys, merely greeting them politely and then informing Jon that he needs to talk with him in private immediately. When they leave, Arya makes her excuses and slips off somewhere as well, so Daenerys is left with Sansa to begin making arrangements for where her troops and supplies can be settled.

It turns out to be a lengthy business for both of them. Many Northern lords are waiting for them at Winterfell, and space is already stretched quite thin. Working with Sansa is a frustrating affair, and Daenerys spares a few moments to regret that she had left Tyrion with the bulk of her host when she and Jon had decided to ride a day ahead to try to get things settled. Bran rejoins them in the yard after a short time, but only long enough to inform Sansa that he is going to the Godswood to meditate. 

Jon does not reappear for several candlemarks, and when he does rejoin them he looks haggard and pained. Daenerys tries to pull him aside to ask about it, only to be met with a terse, “Later.”

It is not until the hour of the bat, when the two of them are at last alone in the chambers Sansa has set aside for them, that she finally finds out what his brother told him. They are sitting together on the bed, but he turns away from her as he all but spits it out, a bald and painful truth, “Ned Stark lied to me. He wasn’t my father. He was my uncle. It seems that Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen ran off together, and she died giving birth to me. So Ned passed me off as his bastard.”

At first, she can only process the shock, but in its wake is a wave of selfish gladness, a feeling bordering on triumph- he was a Targaryen, like her. Of course she felt drawn to him, of course they were meant to be together. She wouldn’t be alone anymore, against all odds, another dragon had survived and they had found each other. But she does her best to tamp it down, because he is making it abundantly clear that this revelation is not a joyful one, for him.

Feeling like entirely the wrong person for this conversation, she rubs his shoulder tentatively as she tries her best to reassure him, “No, Jon. Ned Stark will always be your father, regardless of who sired you. He raised you as his son and he loved you, nothing that Bran or Sam say can change that.”

Jon shakes his head and leans into the touch, but doesn’t say anything else for a while. They stay like that for a while, until she carefully leans back against the wall and pulls him with her, so that he is half leaning against her in the dark, their hands and arms tangled together. Every so often his face will twist up in an expression like he wants to say something, but each time it lasts only a few moments before it subsides.

Once he seems calmer, she asks carefully, “They ran off together? He didn’t rape her?”

Jon scoffs and sits up, “No. According to Sam, who found the records of some old maester, he had his first marriage annulled so he could marry her. So I guess my mother and father were both selfish, not just him. She even named me _Aegon Targaryen_ \- I don’t even have my own name-”

“That’s not- Jon, you don’t know-“

He cuts her off abruptly, “Don’t worry. It doesn’t matter that he tried to set aside his lawful wife and children for my aunt. I bent the knee, I have no intention of changing that or pressing any claim. Bran seems to think this has some relevance to the fight against the Night King, but I promise you, if it were up to me then nobody would ever know. And if they must find out, I will personally make sure everyone knows that you are the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, regardless of who my father was.”

The hurt that lances through her at the implied accusation is involuntary and sharp. Perhaps because she had considered it, for just a few moments- what it would mean about who would sit the Iron Throne. But even as the thought was crossing her mind, she had known that he wouldn’t try to supplant her. The thoughts passed rapid-fire through her mind- they could rule jointly- they were already married- she knew he didn’t seek power- he wouldn’t try to steal anything from her. And his was probably the rightful claim anyways, by birthright. 

But even knowing and telling herself all that, she hadn’t been able to fully avoid the shoot of anger that had unfurled in her chest almost instinctively, her first reaction to the news that she was not the rightful heir. He is her eldest brother’s true son, her only remaining family, someone she is coming to love dearly, and a good and just man besides- she feels ashamed that even a small part of her first reaction to this news that causes him so much torment is to reassure herself of her own position and ambitions. 

Even more shamefully, she knows a small feeling of resentment, that in spite of everything she has accomplished it is only through his largesse and lack of ambition that her own claim remains relevant. For a single fleeting moment she thinks wildly that if she did not acknowledge him then neither would the rest of the realm, she had stronger armies, she had dragons- she simply could take the throne for herself and prove herself the true legacy of Aegon the Conqueror.

She takes a moment before she speaks. Even when she finds her voice, hurt makes the words come out sounding too formal and far away, “I wasn’t thinking that. You are a Targaryen, the only living son of my brother, the crown prince. I know that Ned Stark was your father, but this is part of your birthright as well. You did not know about it when you bent the knee, I would not hold you to that vow.”

At that, something in Jon seems to crumble, and he moves back to her, gathering her in his arms, “No, no- I wasn’t saying- I’m sorry, Dany. I didn’t mean it. I just don’t want this. I don’t want any of it.”

“I know,” Daenerys tells him, “But it doesn’t mean that Ned Stark is any less your father. Just- why don’t we go to sleep tonight, and we can talk about it more tomorrow?”’

Jon nods, clearly grateful for the reprieve. The two of them slip beneath the covers and Jon seems to pass out almost immediately, apparently exhausted by the emotions of Bran’s revelations. But Daenerys cannot sleep so easily. Once his breathing has evened out, she allows herself to feel everything she had tried to push aside for his sake earlier. Viserys hadn’t lied about everything- Rhaegar hadn’t raped Lyanna, they were in love. Yes, he had set aside his lawful wife- but after finding out that at least some of the accusations against her brother were false, she feels more inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

When Ser Barristan had come into her service, she had been forced to face the truth about her father. She knew a little of the pain had Jon felt tonight. It had taken her some time, to fully realize that Viserys and those who had supported them during their exile had lied to her about the truth of her father. Barristan’s stories about Rhaegar had been a beacon of hope for her as she came to accept the truth about her family. Aerys had been mad, and Viserys had been cruel- but she had clung to stories of the eldest prince, the one who played music and had been the finest man that Ser Barristan had ever known. 

She studies the lines of Jon’s face in the moonlight streaming through the window, looking for any hint of similarity to Viserys, the only family member whose face she had known. Possessiveness thrums through her body, a steady exulting beat of _“Mine, mine- he is like me, I am not alone, mine.”_

She knows it is selfish of her, that her sadness for his pain it is mostly dwarfed by her impatience that he move past it. Especially now that he is asleep and she cannot see it on his features, she cannot help the giddiness that pervades her as she imagines him wearing Targaryen colors, claiming his true name in front of those that had scorned him before, perhaps even someday riding Rhaegal. 

She wonders if Sansa and Arya already know- a powerful anger courses through her body as she wonders if it was part of the coldness of Sansa’s greeting for him. On the road to Winterfell, Jon had told her much and more of his childhood here. His admiration for his father, his love for his brothers, the special relationship that he had with his sister Arya. Conspicuously absent from most of the happy stories of his youth had been Sansa, although there had been a few tales where Arya had gotten the better of her in a jape. When she had asked, Jon had only laughed and said, “Sansa was close with Lady Stark, she didn’t spend much time with us boys- unlike Arya, who was forever sneaking into the practice yard to embarrass Bran and often me with her skills at archery.”

Jon had spoken no ill word against his sister Sansa. While she hadn’t featured much in the stories of their childhood, Daenerys had heard several times the story of their reunion at Castle Black- how haggard and unlike his memories of her she had looked, how they had shared their regrets, and how being with her had renewed his energy to fight when he had been at his most defeated, reminded him that he still had family out there and a home to retake. 

Still, Daenerys could read between the lines. Jon tried to avoid speaking ill of the dead, but he had been honest about his relationship with Lady Stark, and how she resented having him in her home, raised amongst her trueborn children. On one of their more somber nights, he told her about the time that his brother Robb had suggested that someday when he was Lord of Winterfell, Jon could be Master-at-arms. The wistfulness and love for his brother had been clear in his voice, but the story ended sadly, as apparently Lady Stark had gotten wind of their plans and taken it upon herself to speak loudly at dinner the next night of how well Ser Rodrik had served in that position and how surely his nephew Jory would be a worthy successor when the time came.

Upon hearing the story, Daenerys had been almost vindictively glad that the woman was dead, but now she wished that Lady Stark were around to hear that the boy she had treated so cruelly was not even a bastard at all. It had been clear from what Jon did not say that when Lady Stark was alive, Sansa had taken her cues from her mother and had not treated Jon as a true brother. Jon did not seem to be harboring any continued resentment over it, but Daenerys vows to herself that if Sansa was reverting to her old treatment of him after learning about Jon’s true parentage, she would remember the importance of loyalty when she appointed her Warden of the North.

As she finally feels herself tiring, Daenerys hopes that Jon is able to find a time tomorrow to speak with Arya. What Jon really needs right now is to be reassured by someone who knew Ned Stark, by one of his siblings, that nothing had changed between them. That he would always be their brother, always be a Stark- that he hadn’t lost anything by finding out about his Targaryen heritage. As she finally slips off into sleep, Daenerys hopes that she’s not being overconfident or insensitive, and that Jon will wake up tomorrow, talk with Arya, and be open to embracing both sides of his heritage sooner rather than later.

That hope turns out to be slightly too optimistic. Over the next week, Jon seems to be gradually coming around to the news. It turns out that his sisters had not known yet, and Daenerys is not with him when he tells them the next day. But Arya sticks to his side like glue for the next few days, and the news seems to have actually made Sansa soften towards him, so that at least is good to hear.

Jon tells her that he’s thinking, that he’s trying to accept it, that he needs time. Daenerys is willing to accept this, for the time being. She informs him that the majority of the Northern lords will arrive at Winterfell within the fortnight, and they will not want to delay telling them for too long, so they should plan to have a meeting with their closest advisors sooner rather than later.  Jon agrees, and they make a tentative plan to have that discussion at the end of the week. At the end of every night, when they retire to their chambers, they lie close together without having sex or talking about Jon’s parentage. It’s deliberately simple, and it comforts Daenerys to still be able to provide him some support even though she doesn’t know what words will help him through this.

In the meantime, there are ample distractions, preparing for the war. Daenerys is not enjoying the cold climate of the North- she finds herself constantly exhausted, collapsing wearily into bed each night and dreading having to rise in the mornings. She has to draw upon every Queenly reserve she has to avoid falling asleep in planning meetings or yawning as she is introduced to an endless parade of Lords.  
   
Fortunately, Tyrion has arrived and is instrumental in helping to organize the war effort and navigate some of the more aggravating politics. One particularly cold day, Jamie Lannister arrives in Winterfell with a contingent of about a dozen men. Daenerys is already feeling the beginnings of a headache when he arrives with news of Cersei’s betrayal, and it is only through Tyrion’s quick intercession that she manages to suppress the urge to have him clapped in irons. 

Still, it is not the most auspicious night for Jon to decide he’s ready to talk. In the end, though, being with him, having him finally willing to open up about how he’s feeling is a balm on her frazzled nerves, in spite of the content of the conversation. Jon tells her that talking with Arya and Sansa has helped him, and that even though he’s still not entirely comfortable with embracing the Targaryen side of his heritage, he’s accepted that it doesn’t make him less of a Stark.

The rejection still stings. Jon has accepted that he’s going to have to tell everyone, and he’s even agreed to try and approach Rhaegal to see if the dragon will let him ride. Daenerys is profoundly grateful for that- both Rhaegal and Jon will be a good deal safer, with Jon on his back. But it hurts, that he’s still so clearly reluctant to see himself as truly a Targaryen. 

In the end, she pushes past it. When he kisses her, she sinks into it gratefully, relieved that he hadn’t decided to reject the physical aspect of their relationship. They don’t talk about what their familial connection means for their marriage, and Daenerys is grateful to avoid the topic for the time being. The difficulties of navigating the ramifications Jon’s heritage are complicated enough without reminding him that he’s now married to his aunt. She’s sure that it will be something they need to discuss someday, but for now Daenerys is happy to avoid the topic and any potential further rejection of Targaryen customs. When he reaches for her, Daenerys wants to continue, but they both fall asleep relatively quickly after that, exhaustion coming on abruptly after the difficult conversation.

Telling Tyrion and the rest of their advisors is actually surprisingly similar to telling the rest of the lords. The initial reaction is disbelief, followed quickly by questions about what it means for who will sit the Iron Throne. 

Jon is the one to field that question first, telling everyone in no uncertain terms, “I was born a trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen, but I have bent the knee to Daenerys, and she will be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I will serve as her heir and her King Consort, for the time being.”

As expected, Tyrion seems as though he has a lot of opinions about that, but Daenerys shuts him down preemptively, warning him, “The marriage is done. Jon has made his decision about the Iron Throne. We are focusing our efforts on the war. Until the enemy to the North is defeated, we’re not going to talk about it any further.”

Tyrion subsides, for the time being, but it’s clear that he does not consider the matter resolved. When they tell the rest of the lords, it is plain that the mood of the crowd immediately turns hostile and suspicious, but Cley Cerwyn is the first and only one to give voice to his objections.

“You expect to be queen?” Cerwyn spits angrily. “Over a trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen? The entire realm will rise up against it. All men think of when they see you is what lies between those thighs.”

Daenerys puts only a token effort into fighting back her anger, “Perhaps my not being a man will serve the realm well, then, as it means I will be uniquely capable of focusing my attention on ruling. You will bend the knee and keep all such thoughts to yourself in the future, or I will find a more loyal vassal to hold Castle Cerwyn on my behalf.”

When he still hesitates, perhaps in shock, Daenerys has her Unsullied take him and lock him up for the night. He’ll get one more chance on the morrow, and after that she’ll strip him of his lands and titles. Fortunately for all, a night to think over his decision does cause Cerwyn to repent his earlier boldness, and perhaps word gets out, as she has no further trouble.

Perhaps there would have been more trouble if the entire business of succession hadn’t been overshadowed by looming threat of war. Ravens do go out, informing the other kingdoms of what has  taken place, telling them to send fighting men for the war in the North, and informing them in no uncertain terms that once this threat has been dealt with they will be bending the knee. 

But the army of the dead is advancing towards Winterfell, and in the North all hands are turned towards turning dragonglass into weapons, teaching fighting men how to use them, and impressing upon all the critical importance of burning their dead. Rhaegal has allowed Jon to ride him, and he and Daenerys spend long hours every day on dragonback, scouting and becoming more comfortable with riding.

In the end, the battle is a long and bloody one, but they prevail. While human armies fight the army of the dead, Drogon and Rhaegal engage the Night King on Viserion, and nearly it rends Daenerys’s heart in two when Rhaegal and Viserion crash to the ground together. 

She cannot look away until she sees that Jon is alright, and even then she only manages to turn her attention back to the fight when she sees a wave of wights advancing to try and attack his back while he engages the fallen Night King on the ground. She and Drogon are able to hold them off while Jon and the Night King fight, and in the end it is Arya that seems to come from nowhere, driving a Valyrian steel dagger into the back of the Night King, which distracts him long enough for Jon to sever his head from his shoulders with Longclaw.

The end of the battle is almost anti-climactic. When the Night King falls, most of his army falls with him, crumbling to the ground. The White Walkers and a small contingent of the wights continue to fight, but with support from Drogon they don’t last long against the human forces. Still, the losses on the side of the living are devastating. Jorah, Tormund, Davos, the Hound, the list goes on. Every house and army that was represented took heavy losses, though a full accounting will not be possible until the coming days. Rhaegal lives, but he has a devastating gash in his wing and wounds around his neck. After the battle, Sam does his best to advise Daenerys on how to treat him, but no one can be certain if or when he’ll fly again.

At the end of the day, Daenerys is certain she’s never felt more exhausted in her life. Tyrion, somehow, is still talking, informing her about what they’re doing to treat the wounded and the latest reports from Varys about the strength of Cersei’s forces. She does her best to listen for a time, then tells him that she will expect a full report tomorrow and goes to her chambers. Daenerys strips off her outer layers and collapses into bed beside Jon without so much as washing any of the blood and grime off her hands and face, and sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess will probably be one more part. This one took more words and covered less ground than I expected, though. So maybe one and a half. It was weird to write Jon's reaction basically from Daenerys's perspective- I will say that her interpretations and expectations of things (both his reaction and other stuff) are her interpretations and expectations. She's not always right. 
> 
> I would very much appreciate knowing your thoughts, good and bad. I'm still relatively new to writing fanfiction, so constructive criticism is always especially welcome. I felt like the pacing in particular was maybe off?


End file.
